Scars that Never Heal
by Ryan-Ookami
Summary: Axel deals with the present and his past as times get rough, with Roxas' help. Mild AkuRoku.


Kingdom Hearts 2

"Scars that Never Heal"

by Ryanookami aka Silverookami

An Axel-centric fanfic, co-starring Roxas.

Rating: T for mild swearing and violence.

Pairings: Mild AkuRoku. Very Mild.

Disclaimer: Very little of this belongs to me. All I can claim ownership over is my interpretation of Axel's Somebody, Lea. I happen to think the name Lea is cute.

A/N: My notes are at the end of the fic, 'cause otherwise they'd spoil it.

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"Scars that Never Heal"

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It had been a long day.

That was a massive understatement, he thought grimly, slowly shrugging his way out of the heavy black jacket draped over his lean frame. It was soaked with sweat and clung to his skin in sticky patches, leeching at his already tender body as he struggled to remove himself from it. Finally freed, he flung the garment to the ground in disgust and looked himself over in the mirror that stood in the corner of his rather barren white room. White desk, white bed with light blue covers, white framed mirror, and a white wardrobe that held, surprise, a row of uniform black coats. The bed happened to have drawers built into the bottom, where he stored his more informal clothes and other small valuables.

What he saw in the mirror was unsurprising. Bluish-purple bruises were beginning to blossom across his thin abdomen in sickly patches, spreading out to cover the browning fading bruises of the week before. Missions had been becoming increasingly difficult, the number of heartless spawning at a rate that would've been impressive had they not been having to deal with the annoying little buggers. Stepping away from the mirror he stripped his black gloves off and tossed them on top of his coat. Both were fairly ruined, and a puddle of the viscous black substance that served the Heartless as blood had begun to pool beneath them. He'd lost more jackets this month than in all his previous time with the Organization put together. He stared at the floor grimly a moment before toeing the clothes out of his way and bending over gingerly to rummage through one of the small hidden drawers. A pair of new boxers and the bottom half of a green silk pajama set were removed before he stood and kicked the drawer closed with a dull thud.

He struggled to pull off his boots while standing, reasoning that the same gummy fluid on his cloak had likely been transferred to his pants as well. There was no point ruining his bedspread with the shit by sitting, so the boots had to come off the hard way. Once he finally removed them, his pants and underwear joined the heap on the floor and an impromptu campfire was born in the middle of his bedroom floor. The smoke carried out the balcony and into the perpetual night sky, only the scent lingering briefly as the flames put themselves out once the outfit had turned to ash, and then disappeared entirely.

The redheaded Nobody sighed deeply and ran a tired hand through his hair, padding softly to his bathroom in bare feet and turning the shower on to the hottest temperature allowed. It was never hot enough. He waited a few moments, leaning in mock relaxation against the bathroom counter, looking at the room with disinterest. White tiles, white shower stall, white toilet, white towels, white soap...not that bathrooms were meant to be terribly interesting places, but this was an extreme example. The only colour in the room were two containers of shampoo, his green toothbrush and a tube of cinnamon flavoured toothpaste. A few more items lay hidden underneath in cabinets and drawers, but the simple sterility of the room still stole something from it. He briefly wondered if the incessant white of their dwellings, the hostile emptiness of all that white space, was a subtle psychological tactic Xemnas used to keep them docile. Could the simple lack of colour do that to a person? He thought it was likely true. Empty colour for empty people, it seemed a very Xemnas thing to do.

When the room was suitably steamy he slipped behind the translucent glass, not bothering to close it over since it was very rare that they disturbed each other in their rooms. All interaction was limited and formal for the most part, conducted in the halls and their grand meeting room...really no more than a large white room with tall white chairs, hardly befitting the title of 'grand'. A subtle adjustment of the air around him in the stall and the water became hotter, a molten rain pouring down on him, relaxing sore and tensed muscles. Head turned up into the shower spray, he reached blindly behind him for the soap, a tremor of pain running from his shoulder deep into his lower back. He hissed between clenched teeth and brought his arm forward and up slowly, other hand reaching underneath to tentatively explore the ache with gentle fingertips. He pressed slightly, thumb and fingers forming small circles in the skin as he worked to loosen the muscles manually, up and across his shoulder. He reached near the center of his back and his hand paused hesitantly, lingering over the sensitive flesh of a large H-shaped scar that covered the space stretched between his shoulder blades. Grimacing, he began to work around the area, feeling the tightness drain from his back slowly as he went. He shook his head, water dripping from the tips of his hair, and rotated his shoulder carefully, making sure the pain wasn't about to return suddenly again.

He washed himself down with care, balancing the task of making sure he'd cleaned the grime and sweat from his skin with not over working his already tired body more than was necessary. He desired nothing more in that instant than to fall gratefully into bed and roll himself up inside his covers to sleep the rest of the pain off until the next day. One hand shakily turned off the tap and slumped forward against the wall for a moment, waiting for the weariness to pass. Either seconds or minutes ticked by, he wasn't sure, before he felt steady enough to push off from the wall and bring his will to bear. Heat filled him slowly, languorously, twining down along the inside of his skin and radiating outwards. The water began to falter as it trickled in lines down his skin, the moisture evaporating in it's tracks and joining with the steam filling the small room. It didn't take long for the water to dry from his skin and hair, but he didn't release his will right away, the warm feeling a welcome diversion from the pain. He stepped into his boxers and pulled the pajama pants up around his thin waist, the fabric clinging to one hip and falling off the other. It was difficult at times for him to find clothing that fit properly, other than his standard issue coat. How Xemnas had known his size ahead of time was beyond him, although admittedly his waistline wasn't that different from who he'd been before.

The idea that Xemnas might know any of that however sent a ripple of dread up his scarred back, but he thought logically that it was unlikely. If Xemnas had any clue of his previous life, the redhead seriously doubted his superior would've kept quiet about it this long. He would've been assigned to Vexen as a permanent lab experiment long ago. Another shudder raced upwards and he shook his head fitfully. No point thinking such things now, not when all he wanted was a good night's sleep and a little bit of peace. His rather hard mattress and scratchy blankets had never looked so comfortable before. A small smile touched his lips as he scooted under the covers, pulling one pillow into his chest to squeeze as sleep took him.

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He looked out a window high over a city made of white marble. A quiet voice in the back of his mind made it's disgust known at the sight of all that glowing white, but he pushed it aside as his bright orange eyes took in the sites of his home. People moved about with single-minded determination, or sauntered about in casual groups with friends and loved ones, each going about their way with smiles and greetings, bags filled with goods to sell, or items purchased. Chatter, laughter, cries of annoyance and bitter yelling filled his ears like song, and he strained to pick out one voice, any voice, just to make sense of something. As always, he failed. He was too high, too far removed from the scenes playing out like theater below him. He turned from it suddenly and leaned heavily against the window frame, his back aching and his eyes downcast. He would've given anything in that instant to be with them.

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"Axel. You have to get up now." A voice called from somewhere seemingly far away.

"Mmph." he replied, pulling a pillow over his face, determined to ignore the person who dared to intrude on his peace.

"Fine. Be that way."

The redhead smirked beneath the pillow. Another victory, the hassle of morning put off for a little longer still.

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"How are you feeling this morning?" Chancellor Nemu asked solicitously, a steaming tray carried in his pudgy hands. He was a short man, dressed in a gaudy purple mantle over a plain white smock that barely covered his rotund thighs. His hair was brown fringe around the back of his head leaving his scalp shiny and bare, and dead gray eyes ruined what might otherwise have been a jovial face.

He turned his head slowly to face away from the man, though he still heard him shuffling about the room, the clanking of the tray as he set it down, the wisp of his robe trailing across the cold stone floor. He frowned and buried his face deeper into his pillow, willing the man to leave and not return. That was terribly unlikely however, short of the man's death. He knew it was horribly wrong, but a small dark part of his inner self hoped fervently for just such a thing to occur. This man's death might mean his own release. A foolish dream.

The plump chancellor leered at the figure on the bed as his hands worked at setting out the morning's meal and tidying up the small apartment. It was no secret, the disgust the young man felt for him, but the chancellor couldn't really care less how the other perceived him. His captivity of the youth had gained him great favour with their Emperor, though few even knew about the young man's existence. Nemu preferred it that way. The less that knew the truth about the prisoner and how he had provided Nemu his chance to worm his way into the Emperor's inner circle the better. One man had already died so that the secret would remain safe, if more had to as well, then so be it, so long as he never had to dirty his own hands directly. Being a master of philtres and potions, elixirs and poisons, it was not much of a problem doing away with enemies while retaining a safe distance. He even had the skill to make it look natural, a key to his success in the royal court thus far. The redhead knew all this about the unpleasant little man, but it wasn't terribly useful to him. The chancellor bragged about his deeds, his accomplishments, because the young man was trapped with the floor and walls as his only audience. He could scream until his lungs blackened and it wouldn't help any.

So the redhead continued to lay on his stomach in his bed, ignoring the other occupant of the room, trying his best to remain unmoving and feign sleep for as long as possible. Hopefully the man would simply leave the meal and go on his way, it had happened a few times before when he had appointments to keep, errands to run. The footsteps approached the bed though, and a smug voice gloated near his ear. "Must you really be this difficult each time?" clammy hands settled on his back, running from the small of his back up to the base of neck. He shuddered at the touch but there was no place to pull away to, unless he discovered a way to sink into the hard mattress. He doubted that would happen any time soon. "Collection time." The voice lilted merrily, and then the pain started.

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He was in pain and he bolted from the bed, hands twisting protectively towards his back before he could realize the pain came from elsewhere. Green eyes shifted around the room with unease, pupils having to adjust to the light streaming in from the hallway. A short figure was silhouetted by the light and for a moment he felt certain the smug little chancellor had returned from his past to find him. A sensation swirled through his brain, trying to reject reason and accept his sleep clouded conclusions, but stern logic pointed out the figure was too slim, and had far too much hair sticking up from it's head to be his former prison guard. A trembling groan escaped his lips and he sunk back against the wall, ignoring a sharp twinge from his muscles.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the voice said evenly. Not really caring, not concerned, just wanting to know the underlying fact so it could be dismissed and things could move on. It was Roxas.

"...Nothing. I was asleep. See how you like it when someone appears in your room and wakes you with violence." He replied defensively, pushing off from the wall and stalking towards the youngest member of the Organization. He stood before the blond, hands resting on cocked hips, using all of his height to make himself feel better, larger and more in control. Considering how short Roxas was in comparison it wasn't much of a feat, but he knew it was just an illusion. Roxas was pure violence wrapped in an innocuous container. The only hint of the potential contained within his small frame were his eyes, the cold and frosty blue of a winter's sky, and they spoke of just as much power and devastation. If it ever came to a real fight between them, he wasn't so confidant he could best the kid in an all out power struggle. At least the redhead knew he was the more devious of the two.

"I kicked you. I've done worse." his eyes clearly showed that he'd do so again if the taller man continued to give him more trouble. Roxas didn't balk just because he was being towered over. He crossed his arms over his chest, and stood there perfectly still in his voluminous black jacket, waiting.

He knew when to take a hint and began to shimmy out of his pajama pants. The blond continued to watch, immobile and uncaring as the older man undressed and pulled out a fresh pair of pants and a new jacket. "Hold on a sec while I brush my teeth, 'kay?"

Roxas sighed. "Get on with it, Axel. I'm sick of waiting. I sent Demyx to get you while I got our mission from the superior. I had Marluxia check to see if you were up yet while I got directions. Xaldin told me you were STILL asleep while I packed some provisions. Why do you do this each and every time?" A touch of impatience and frustration worked it's way to the surface of Roxas' normally impassive exterior. A sure sign he was well on his way to being pissed.

"If you want to go on a mission with me while I have morning breath and bed hair, be my guest. I was trying to be considerate."

Blue eyes rolled peevishly, but he replied "Fine, just be quick."

"Right-o." The redhead mock saluted and headed towards the bathroom, clothes draped over one arm. Once he'd gotten inside and pulled the door closed he growled under his breath. "Fuck." he snarled, turning away from the mirror and looking over his shoulder at the reflection. His back was covered still in splotches of bruises, from brownish green to bright purple, and his scar stood out from his skin in bright angry red, almost as deep a shade as his hair. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. "Just great. Just fucking great." he exhaled, turning to rummage through one drawer, then the other. No aspirin. He pulled everything out of the drawers, sorting through each item as though magically a whole bottle of pain killers would appear out of the chaos. No such luck.

A polite knock at the door startled him from his search. "It doesn't take this long to put your clothes on and brush your teeth, Axel. Time to go." The voice brooked no argument.

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled his pants on and fumbled with the clasp before gingerly pulling the coat around his shoulders. It wasn't happening. His arms refused to move enough to pull the jacket it on by himself. "Damn it. Rox, get in here." The door opened a crack and one blue eye peered in. "I said -in- Roxas."

The younger man opened the door fully and stepped into the brightness of the bathroom, the bare white bulbs giving his blond hair a soft golden shine. "Are you having problems dressing yourself?" One eyebrow quirked up.

"Shut up and hold my fucking coat for me, would ya, kid?" he snapped back, the pain in his back speeding up his already quickly darkening mood. Roxas decided to keep his mouth shut as he accepted the jacket and held it up so that the taller man could simply slid into it one arm at a time.

"Are you up for this?" he asked once he'd helped his senior into his coat and obligingly zipped it up for him.

"Yeah. I feel like killing something today."

"We feel nothing."

"Yeah, yeah, got it memorized and all that shit. Let's go."

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His hands were covered in a thick red liquid that trailed it's way down his fingers and dripped wetly to the floor in tiny droplets. Pale gray eyes stared at him in disbelief, hands clawed and scrabbling at the arm that held the pudgy man fast against the wall. "W-wha--??" blood misted out from the man's mouth and sprayed across the plain white shift his killer wore. "L...l-lea..." he gasped before his eyes rolled back into his skull and his considerable weight went slack. The hand that held him jerked back suddenly and wide orange eyes watched with horrified fascination as he slid down the wall, a trail of red smearing the white brick behind.

He looked at his hand with uncertainty, unable to quite grasp what had happened. The chancellor had come to him yet again. His visits were more frequent lately, nights as well as mornings for the past few weeks. He collected more than ever, hands tearing from his flesh, white stained with the bright crimson of fresh blood. It was never enough. No matter what they did the Emperor continued to fail, death hovering ever closer. Nemu was desperate to stave it off, at least until the Emperor had seen fit to reward him for his efforts thus far.

He guessed it was all in vain now, wasn't it. Nemu would do no more collecting ever from him ever again.

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"Have we done enough collecting for the day?" The redhead asked, voice on the verge of a whine. His companion huffed visibly, but put up his blades and stalked back towards the taller man, turning from the Heartless that ran away from the onslaught of the Nobodies. It seemed that even the younger man concurred that they had gathered enough hearts for Xemnas today.

"You look awful." It was a statement that bore no undertones, not worry, not disgust, not even pity. A statement of fact, no more, no less.

"Great, I'll schedule an appointment with my beautician."

"I think Marluxia's all booked up."

Green eyes blinked in disbelief as the small Nobody walked away back towards their lodgings. "Wait a sec!" he smiled as he caught up with Roxas. "That was a joke. An honest to goodness joke. Way to go Rox, didn't know you had it in you!" he slapped him across the back in hearty congratulations.

"I've been forced to hang out with you too much." He wasn't sure if Roxas was joking again, or actually meant that.

"Aw c'mon, it's not all that bad. I'm a pretty interesting guy."

Roxas rolled his eyes again. "If by interesting you mean annoying, then I agree."

"Is that irritation I'm hearing in your voice?" The blond opened his mouth to reply but fell silent when Axel held a hand up to his lips. "I take some pride in knowing I'm the only one able to get beneath that icy exterior of yours, Roxas."

"You don't."

"I do so. I'm plumbing the depths of your icy interior even now. See the way your eyelid tics like that? That's me. The way you're sneering? Me again. The way--"

"Shut up, Axel."

"That's me too." he smiled "Someday I'll figure out what's at the very bottom of your entire icy facade. You'll see. Fire always melts ice, it just takes a while."

"Vexen's ice. I'm light."

"Fire gives off light."

"You just have some weird need to foster some sort of connection between us. It's pointless. You've been here longer than I have, why don't you realize that?"

He ran a hand through his thick crimson spikes. "If that's all there is, the emptiness, then what's the point, why go on?"

"Kingdom Hearts."

"Oh cut the bullshit, Roxas!" He exclaimed, hands balling into fists. "Do you really believe that Kingdom Hearts is going to be some magical cure-all? Do you really think it will solve all our problems, give us nifty new hearts and send us on our way with a pat on the back?! It's complete bullshit Roxas, complete and utter bullshit." he finished tiredly.

"Then why do it? Why do you stay if you don't believe?" Blue eyes looked up at him, and the older nobody could've sworn he saw something in them for the first time. Concern...and hope.

"...Where else does a Nobody go? Is there anything else out there for us, any other place we can belong?"

"Belong? I don't understand." Whatever glimmer of emotion he'd thought he'd seen in Roxas' eyes was gone, erased by that all encompassing blankness.

He sighed and turned his head aside. "Belonging...it's being in a place and knowing...knowing that you were meant for it, and it was meant for you. It's--" he faltered, unable to explain such a complex concept that relied so heavily on feeling, or the memories of feelings, to someone who'd never had any to begin with.

They reached the door of the small townhouse on the edge of the city, a building which had long since been abandoned as the neighbourhood worsened and all the people had moved to the relative safety of the suburbs. "So, the Organization...This is where we 'belong'? We're like the others, we're all Nobodies. Being the same, is that what belonging is?"

The redhead chuckled despite his somber mood. "Naw, Roxas, trust me, there's no one like you. You're an original."

The blond stopped and looked up at him with serious eyes. "Except for my Other."

He nodded. "I guess so."

"I'll find my own place to belong."

Green eyes looked up uncertainly as the younger Nobody climbed the stairs to the second floor bedrooms. "Good luck, Roxas. Some people...just don't have a place where they can belong." he whispered quietly.

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He had considered stealing the sandals from the chancellor's feet, but he couldn't bring himself to touch the man's body, even in such a fleeting way. Even the idea of wearing an item that had touched Nemu's skin was unpleasant. He wiped his hands on his blankets and scurried to the armoire that held his clothing, shucking off the bloodstained shift and throwing it carelessly to the floor. Not really looking he grabbed a new smock, stepping into it and pulling the loose fabric up to his neck, tying it firmly behind with a quick knot. He reached for a dark olive coloured robe when a hand gripped his ankle and he gasped in shock, jerking back from the clammy touch.

The chancellor looked up at him with cloudy gray eyes, blood still dripping down the front of his face from his mouth. "What're y-you doin'?" he coughed, struggling to pull himself up from the slick blood-coated marble. The redhead looked down at the dying man in horror, reflexively pulling on the mantle and stepping backwards towards the door. His bright fiery eyes flicked uncertainly towards the wall where he had held the man up and forced his hand into his chest, tearing through fragile flesh. The blood stain remained, a testament that it had really occurred, it hadn't been some dream or fantasy. Lying in the thickening blood puddled on the floor was a small glass vial, uncorked and empty.

The mantled man scrabbling on the floor chuckled slightly, blood spraying from his lips, but he seemed healthier already. "I'm surprised you really tried that Lea..." he coughed again. "You can't kill me, don't you understand? I have thousands upon thousands of potions at my disposal, and all thanks to you." he laughed, using the edge of the bed to pull himself into a kneeling position. "Kill me again and again, and still you will be responsible for bringing me back!"

He backed away from the gleefully laughing man in disbelief, eyes wide and frightened. Was it true? Was this man unkillable, and all thanks to he himself? He fled the room, fled the man, but his voice chased after, echoing in his mind.

"You can't run Lea, you'll never belong out there, you'll never be safe out there!"

He ran down flights of stairs, through corridors and past startled servants, pushing his way desperately towards any sign of freedom, any way to escape this prison of white marble. Startled cries of anger rang out far behind him as the chancellor gave chase, his bulk belying his swiftness as he ran after the young man, desperate to stop him before he reached the outside.

Light loomed up ahead and the redhead dashed towards it, sprinting all out, ignoring the cries and commotion around him now that he had a goal in sight. He reached the light and hurled himself out into it's waiting embrace. Warmth spread with welcome over his pale skin as he ran from the white palace that rose high and looming behind him, and he smiled even as his body screamed in protest. He eyes watered from the brightness, his lungs burned as if they were on fire and the weight from his back ached all the way to the bone, and still he ran. He ran until he could do nothing else but collapse in the street as the people crowded around and stared.

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The redhead sat quietly on his bed, pajama clad legs cradled to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around them. He rocked ever so slowly as memories played through the back of his mind, pale green eyes open and staring but seeing nothing in the present. Eventually he pushed himself forcefully from the bed and walked slowly to the door, catching sight of himself in a floor length mirror along the way. The darkness stole the colour from his bruises, but they still stood out from the paleness of his skin in stark relief. He sighed. He wished he'd thought to bring a shirt to hide the marks, but had never liked sleeping with a top on.

He padded down the hall on silent feet, moving with graceful quiet like a cat despite the pain and weariness. He stood at the door at the end of the hall unmoving and uncertain, hand raised to knock.

"What is it, Axel?" Came Roxas' voice from behind the door before his hand had had the chance to move. Roxas could be uncanny like that at times. He pushed the door open a fraction and leaned in. Roxas was sitting on the edge of the bed, covers pulled back beneath him. He wore a simple gray t-shirt and pale blue boxers causing the older member to realize he'd never seen the boy out of his coat before. Seeing him like this somehow made him seem more harmless, more human, even though he wasn't. Neither of them were. "Are you planning on just standing in my doorway all night?" The blond crossed his arms over his thin chest, eyes staring directly at him.

"I--I..." he frowned, uncertain of how to explain himself.

Roxas sighed. "Just get in here. It's cold anyways." he shrugged as if that statement explained everything, and pulled his legs up onto the bed, stuffing them under the covers and scooting towards the far side of the mattress. He left the blankets down in an unspoken invitation. The redhead looked away in embarrassment, but accepted and climbed gratefully into the bed, pulling the covers up snugly over the both of them. He turned away from the boy to switch the light off when the feel of a hand on the bare skin of his back caused him to tense. "How did you get this scar, Axel?" Fingers played lightly over the mottled flesh, curious and testing. He shuddered beneath the feel.

"It's not important. It's nothing." he choked.

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Eyes. Hundreds seemingly, all staring down at him. Every colour, every size, so many expressions, so many emotions. He pulled himself to all fours, struggling to make it the rest of the way, but his legs felt like rubber and wouldn't co-operate. Whispers were drowning him, burying him in noise and confusion. They pressed in around him, bodies and warmth, harsh noise and stares, pointing and whispering. It was too much, he couldn't process it all at once.

"Who?"

"What is it?"

"Those...those are..."

"Can it be?"

"...take them, we could..."

"No, no...they're all gone."

"Extinct, have been for hundreds of years."

"Surely he must..."

"...if we had those we..."

"Do you know what this means?"

"Can we just take..."

"Immortality!!"

A thousand voices, a million words all crashing down and over him, carrying him away on a tidal wave of confusion. His hands scrabbled uselessly against the white marble of a building face, fingers becoming raw and bloody as he desperately searched for purchase. A phantom voice whispered in his mind "You'll never be safe out there..." it trailed off laughing wildly in his imagination. "Please...please, no..." he sobbed out loud, hands clapped over ears in a futile gesture. "I want...I want to go..."

With those words the crowd broke, the stillness replaced with chaos as the onlookers saw all their deepest dreams and fantasies parade before their eyes, almost within reach. They moved towards him as one, all clawing hands and gleaming eyes. Their hands tore at his skin and pulled him from the building, the trampled each other all in the desire to get closer to him, to take their desires from his flesh. The first ones poked and prodded, snatching small handfuls as quickly as they could, others tried to hold him still and tear chunks from his back.

Something built up inside him. A warmth that spread through his limbs and kept growing, even as the pain laced through his body and the blood flowed from his wounds. As his body weakened the feeling grew, consuming him. He battered feebly at his attackers, but there were too many, they held him fast from all directions, no escape. His blood boiled in his veins, pounding in a torrent through his body. Strong hands reached his shoulder blades and he felt a horrible wrenching pain wrack his entire body, the sickening sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone filling his ears. The feeling was overwhelming, anger and pain and terror spiraling down to the center of his being, eating him away from the inside. Another great flash of pain stabbed through him as the hands tore mightily from him again. He screamed, his cries of anguish drowned by the triumphant hollering of the man who stood above him, a huge mass of flesh and bloodied feathers clutched in his upraised hands.

"The Phoenix's wing! I have it! The key to immortality! The Phoenix's wing!!" the man laughed.

The darkness welled up inside him and his last thoughts before he let it swallow him was that immortality was a bitter lie indeed.

----------

The lights were off and they both lay very still, breathing soft and shallow in the dim room.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier, Axel." a hushed voice spoke into the night.

"I talk a lot, Roxas, could you be more specific?"

"About belonging. I think I get it. Kind of."

"Do you now?" He did his best to keep the skepticism from his voice.

"I think belonging...all you really need is one other person."

The redhead frowned and rolled over to find the blond was already in perfect position to stare right back into his green eyes, ever paler in the darkness. The lack of light stole nothing from Roxas' eyes, they glowed with their own inner luminance. It might just be an aspect of the younger man's element, but he doubted it. "What are you talking about?"

He bit his lip, a very un-Roxas-like gesture. "Well, when you want to belong somewhere..." he hesitated. "All you really need is one other person, and so long as they keep a place for you inside them, like in their heart, that's what it means to belong."

The Nobody blinked in disbelief. He stared silently into bright blue eyes for a long time before a smile spread slowly across his face, soft and tender. Leave it Roxas to come up with such a unique idea. "I think you're right, Roxas." he reached one hand up and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Good job."

They both fell silent and the older Nobody rolled back over, fluffing the pillow beneath his head and nuzzling deeply into it. The darkness closed around them, the quiet of the night blanketing them and lulling them to sleep.

"When I have a heart I'll keep a place for you in it. You won't have to worry about belonging." The boy whispered to the room, blue eyes barely hovering open as sleep pulled him down into the welcome embrace of dreams, beside him his companion already deep in slumber.

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Orange eyes looked out over a dark world, staring intently at full moon in the shape of a heart.

Green eyes stared curiously at his companion, uncertain, yet somehow aware that something was not quite right about the situation. He felt out of place.

Lea smiled, looking over at his Nobody, feet dangling off the edge of the building. His hand reached out and squeezed briefly over the hand beside his. Axel looked up at the sky, at Kingdom Hearts curiously as a familiar voice spoke.

"...Do you really need this anymore?" he beckoned to the moon. "Does it still mean something to you?" Lea asked.

He smiled up at the moon and shook his head. "No, I guess I don't."

"Good. I'm glad for you."

"You are?"

Bright orange eyes stared into his pale green ones. "Yes." he nodded simply. "You have all the things you need. Everything I ever wanted." Axel nodded. "Take good care of them." They sat together quietly for some time, looking up into the perpetually dark sky, and when the Nobody looked beside him to talk again, there was no one else there.

He grinned widely and looked up at the moon, at Kingdom Hearts, and knew it was the last time he'd ever see it, awake or in dreams.

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The End.

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A/N: Well, that's it. Hope you enjoyed, and I hope you understood. It might have been hard to do the latter, considering I never refer to Axel or Lea by name during the narrative, only when they're being called by name by other characters, and in the very end sequence. I thought the lack of self-identity was befitting a Nobody, and his disassociation with his recollections of his past life. It probably got confusing at points though, and for that I apologize.

Many people go with the fanon that Demyx was a merman in his 'real' life, seems reasonable considering his element. I considered what Axel's somebody would've been and considering the crossover with the worlds of Final Fantasy I always though it would be interesting to make him a Phoenix, the last of his kind, at least on the world he was from. I have numerous drawings portraying him as such...some I'm going to upload to my DeviantArt account, some, nah. Hate the idea? So what? I liked it. I know the Phoenix is supposed to be a bird, but I can interpret it as a winged person if I care to. I thought it was a pretty original concept, I haven't seen it elsewhere, so I went with it. Although I've been drawing Lea as a Phoenix for a while, I wrote all of this story in one night, hope it turned out okay.

Many thanks for reading it, feel free to leave a comment! -nudge, nudge-

-Ryan

aka

-Silver


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